Some of you made already be aware of the Me-Made-May challenge that I wrote about on this blog back in April. Initially created as way to expand upon my personal Me-Made-March challenge, Me-Made-May took on a life of its own! Over 80 members of the sewing community participated by challenging themselves to wear their handmade garments throughout the month. Each individual assessed for themselves what type of commitment would be challenging but also manageable for themselves. A Me-Made-May Flickr group was born to share photos of what handmade and refashioned items were worn and how people combined their creations with either shop bought clothing or other handmade items. The discussion boards flourished with diverse topics such as advice on sewing knits, where to find useful online resources, ways to accessorise to make an outfit have more impact and even what, if any, music do you listen to whilst sewing. It has been fascinating seeing the different ways individuals responded to the challenge, and a true delight be have the opportunity to connect with sewers all over the globe.

I’ve mentioned before how easy it can be to be overly critical and dismissive of the items we create for ourselves. I think the majority of Me-Made-May participants learnt to accept, appreciate and even love their handmade wares more as a result of the challenge. Some participants acknowledged that shop bought clothing is often badly made with an unsatisfactory fit and produced in poor quality fabric, and on the whole their self-made items faired very well by comparison. I, for one, also found myself previously in the rut of sewing the same type of garment again and again, for example I’ve made countless skirts but usually wear trousers. There is, of course, nothing wrong with making the same type of garments if you are happy with the status quo, but personally I wanted the fruits of my sewing machine to more accurately reflect the types of garments I require from my wardrobe day in day out. Me-Made-May (as with Me-Made-March before it) certainly encouraged me to branch out and I’ve made some much-used garments that I probably wouldn’t have thought to attempt otherwise, and my sewing skills have subsequently expanded.

You may be wondering why I am reporting some of the many enjoyable outcomes of Me-Made-May we are now in June and it’s over. Well, I would like to announce another challenge that will run in a similar vein: Self-Stitched-September!  This new challenge will give participants (and those who would rather follow proceedings without actively taking part, of course) the opportunity to inspire, encourage, teach and learn from each other and have a lot of fun!  It has also been designed to be easier to sign-up to, whilst retaining the ability to be customised to each individual’s personal objectives and criteria. There will be another Flickr Group created, plus closer to September I’ll create a blog post (on my personal blog) linking all the participants blogs so the inspiration and discussions can commence with ease. With so many of the participants of Me-Made-May having already signed up within 24 hours of the announcement of this new challenge, I can guarantee Self-Stitched-September will be just as enjoyable. If you are interesting in finding out more, and/or signing-up for the next round of self-stitched fun, head over to this post. However, my intention is not simply to replicate Me-Made-May: the aim is to make September bigger, better and brighter by getting more than 100 participants. Hope to see you there!

One day last week, I posted about this dress on Twitter. It’s by Heidi Merrick and the retail cost is $462. It’s cute and I generally think her designs are lovely, but… THOSE STRIPES. Can you imagine paying $462 for a dress with stripes that almost but don’t quite match at the waist like this?

Ok, I can’t actually imagine paying $462 for any dress myself, let alone for a simple madras sheath, but this strikes me as particularly nuts. It’s not that I think that all stripes always have to match, but these are way too close to look intentional, don’t you think? It just looks sloppy. Of course, I think it’s that flaw combined with the fact that I know the high price tag and that makes me cringe. If I saw this on someone on the street, I’m sure I wouldn’t notice.

Do you have any clothing peeves like this? Little things that annoy you when you see them in the shops? I have a feeling that the longer you’ve been sewing, the more peeves about quality you might have.

This weekend I undertook the interesting (to me) task of laying out all my me-made garments in preparation for my Me-Made-May challenge. I’ve never seen them altogether before, and was surprised to see how many ‘multiples’ I’d created. By that I mean garments that used the same pattern for their creation, either ‘straight up’ or with modifications. The realisation was forced upon me that if I have made a garment that I deem even a half-success, nine times out of ten I’ll make another. The second (or third etc.) version will be in a different fabric and usually with some alteration for improved fit and/or to create an alternative style (this post is illustrated with multiple versions I’ve made to help explain).

Let me break it down. Maybe you’ve gone to the effort of making a toile/muslin to achieve a well fitting garment, or maybe (if you’re anything like me) you’ve gone straight ahead with your ‘good’ fabric with plans to approach any necessary alterations as you go. Either way, you have battled potentially confusing instructions, figured out how to the 2D pieces fit together to make a 3D object and in what order and probably learnt a fair few lessons along the way. You’ve come out the other side with a new garment, is it not a natural reaction to make another? I’m not talking about necessarily back-to-back projects from the same pattern (though has anyone done that?). But, wouldn’t it be nice to undertake a project that you KNOW doesn’t contain any nasty unexpected fit problems or morale-reducing construction-based frustrations?

 However, is this reaction the norm? Do all sewers make the majority of their projects at least twice? Personally, when I plan my next sewing project, the decision to try a new pattern or radically alter one compared to remaking a tried and tested one is the equivalent of deciding if I want to watch a challenging documentary or an enjoyable but predictable feel-good movie. There’s certainly the right and wrong times for each.

But maybe I’m a more extreme case. As soon as I see a pattern I like, my mind automatically starts to mull over all the variations I could extract from it before I’ve even bought the damn thing! And my interest in this extends to other people’s creations too. When I saw Cecili from Sewing and Sew On‘s beautiful Simplicity dress created from a vintage pattern that she worked hard to perfect, I immediately left her a comment as I had the uncontrollable urge to know if she was going to make it again. She responded that she was going to make another with an alternate sleeve, and upon reading this I felt a giant ‘YES!’ rush through me! Is that wierd?  

Of course you can tweek, alter and modify a pattern so much that the results are virtually unrecognisable from the original design. But how many times is too many times? My personal record for making variations is using Simplicity 3835 seven times! And I must admit I have at least one more variation in the pipeline. (Actually, this range of patterns has its own own Flickr group, like the Colette Patterns’ one!) Can anyone beat seven? I think when you remove much of the challenge from a sewing project’s construction, you automatically replace it with a new challenge: ‘How many times can I make variations of this pattern before somebody notices and says something?!’

Flickr groups, Burdastyle’s project archive, Pattern Review and the Colette Patterns gallery are awesome sources for seeing other people’s interpretations of a pattern that you own or are interested in. But for me, what with my apparent multiple-pattern-variation obsession (MPV for short?), these sources can lead me into obsessive overdrive with all the options and possibilities presented. I feel this post has been cathartic, thank you for your time. What would make this therapy truly successful is to find out I am not the sole bearer of this affliction!

Flicking through a 1970 edition of Golden Hands magazine recently, I discovered this image of an awesome appliqué panelled dress. The caption reads:

‘This enchanting evening dress with its pretty floating sleeves and attractive appliquéd bodice panel was designed by Adele Cooper, a fashion student at Hornsey College of Art. The dress is made in cream rayon crepe with satin and crepe appliqué in dark green, pale green, pink, blue and cream, machine sewn with a zigzag stitch. The appliqué panel shows two little birds perched at the edge of a lake surrounded by trees, with soft pink clouds above. The appliqué pattern is embroidered by hand with satin stitch and French knots.’

Well, I hope Ms Cooper received a good mark for her fantastic creation. Interesting also, how the author of the cation described the colours even though it is a full-colour image, I guess that was a hangover from an era where not every page of a publication would be printed in colour.  

When I saw the picture above, I was instantly reminded of a book from the early ’80′s on pictoral appliqué similar to this one which I found in my college library when I was about 17 that became the inspiration for a series of floral appliqués projects for my textiles course. It was time consuming and tricky, especially because I had decided to use satin for the small applied shapes, but the effect was impressive. So, aside from smaller and much simpler shaped applied to bags and skirts, why haven’t I tried anything similar since? One person who does do so, is the seriously talented and evidently very patient Michelle from Naughty Little Epoch, who creates some stunning appliquéd panels. I think these picture appliqués blur the distinction between sewing and art. The materials and techniques are common to garment creation, but the questions of composition, colour and texture seem more akin to the processes of painting.  

What are your thoughts on picture appliqué? Have you ever tried it? Do you have any ideas how, aside from a bodice panel or basic A-line skirt, they could form part of a garment?

(image source)

So, do you actually wear the clothes you spend time creating? Personally, I often find it too easy to find fault in my newly completed creations and at times used to shove them in a drawer and allow myself to be quickly distracted by the next project. But thankfully eventually, the ratio of drawer-fillers to wearable items began to shift. I also learnt to forgive some of their imperfections as enjoying the thrill of wearing something that I made myself overpowered the self-conscious flaw-obsessing. Gradually, I found that an increasing number of the clothes I relied upon day to day were actually fruits of my own sewing machine.

It was the desire to celebrate and solidify that shift, and further develop the relationship I have with my handmade clothing (not to mention a healthy dose of hero-worship inspired by Natalie and her Makeshift project) that led me to conceive of and realise my Me-Made-March project. For the whole month I wore only clothing I made myself, excluding bras, socks, tights and shoes, and documented each day on my blog. It was a very interesting experience, if at time a little cold, repetitive or frustrating!

What excited me most were the supportive and lovely comments that I received, particularly the ones that informed me I had inspired them to sew, and of course wear, more of their own clothing. However, when I looked at the ‘documentation’ of that month, I felt that often I wasn’t really reflecting much of myself (or at least a facet of myself) in my appearance. In short, I could do better. So I have decided to do it again, only this time bigger, brighter, more colourful and more fun; enter the Me-Made-May challenge!

The other difference between this new challenge and March’s version is that I am sending out the call to anyone who wishes to participate along with me. Over thirty creative people have already signed up to take on the challenge. Some plan to apply the same ‘rules’ as I will, some will be following Me-Made-May-Lite by wearing one item of handmade clothing each day and others will complete a different, gentler, version of the challenge, such as wearing one handmade item each day for a week or only at the weekends. If you feel like a challenge that will encourage you to reach for the handmade rather than shop bought more often, why don’t you join us?

What type of challenge you wish to undertake may depend on how long you have been sewing and/or how many handmade garments you already own, or whether you wish to include refashioned items or even handmade jewellery. However you may personally wish to interpret it, it would be great to have you come on board!

While I was in New York, I had the opportunity to visit the Oliver + S studio in Brooklyn. Liesl was kind enough to contact me a while back and since I mentioned I’d be visiting NY soon, invited me over so we could meet.

If you’re not already familiar with Oliver + S, you ought to be, but especially if you have any wee ones in your life. Liesl designs some outstanding children’s patterns, which you can judge for yourself from the designs. They are completely adorable but still so fresh and modern. And needless to say, people love them. Sew Mama Sew even named them the best pattern company of the decade. How’s that for high marks?

Their studio really reflects the lovely, cheerful style of the patterns. In a bright little loft with tons of natural light, we had tea and talked business while I admired the shelves of carefully organized fabric, wonderful sample garments hanging on the brick walls, and the patterned birds on branches suspended above the desk.

I just got back from a short but phenomenal trip to New York. I used to live in Manhattan, so it is really wonderful to be able to return and visit friends, eat delicious Indian food, enjoy some fabulous cocktails and, of course, shop for fabric.

Guys, I forgot how amazing the fabric shopping in New York is. Utterly, truly amazing. This time around, I was accompanied by Gertie, who is every bit as lovely as you might believe from her blog. I had a really nice time just sitting and chatting, then hunting for fabric together.

After hitting B&J and Mood for fabric, we stopped in to Tinsel Trading Company. I just can’t get enough of their incredible selection of vintage millinery flowers, all so beautifully arranged. A small selection of them are available on their site, but it doesn’t really compare to the in person experience.

This is where I bought the pips for the hat I made for my wedding, by the way.

It is definitely a recommended stop if you are ever in the garment district.

I’ve just finished reading Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster by Dana Thomas, and if you are at all interested in the world of fashion and the drastic changes it’s undergone, you should definitely pick it up!

Luxury used to mean the best money could buy. Luxury products were expensive and totally out of reach for most people, but they carried with them a tradition of exquisite craftsmanship, perfect presentation, and an unrivaled experience of service. Some of the large luxury companies still stand by these principles (she shows how Chanel and Hermes, for example, still go above and beyond in the pursuit of quality).

{images above: women in Dior in the 1940s/50s via sacheverelle}

But most luxury brands have changed dramatically. The businessmen at the helm have realized that they can make a killing by focusing on marketing “entry level” products to the middle market. That means handbags, sunglasses, perfume, cosmetics… the things a middle income person could afford to splurge on to get a taste of that fancy brand. Meanwhile, the quality has plummeted and most products are secretly produced in Chinese factories (while being stamped “made in Italy”). Some of these factories are sweat shops. Some employ child labor. The companies make a lot of profit.

{image above: Louis Vuitton ad}

Luxury brands used to be owned and run by designers. For the most part, they are now part of giant conglomerates and totally focused on the bottom line. Designers are almost expendable, and the clothes are in some part just a vehicle to sell the brand and thereby sell more handbags. Couture clothing has only gotten less attainable, because it’s not meant to be sold to many people. Instead, we get “fast fashion” versions of the designs. I was fascinated to learn this tidbit:

“More than two hundred thousand women worldwide wore couture in the 1950s. It was an expected part of a bourgeois woman’s everyday life. Today, in comparison, a mere two hundred women worldwide buy haute couture.”

So this left me with a question: What is luxury now, to you and I? Are there still real luxuries available to normal people? Is sewing one of those luxuries?

Personally, I would like to think that I appreciate craftsmanship, detail, and quality. I like things that last a good long time and look beautiful. Sewing is one of the few ways I have to attain that. Of course, there are other reasons I sew, but I do like being able to create a perfectly tailored silk dress in my own home.

But I don’t think it’s the only answer. One of the interesting points she makes is that there are small businesses who are able to stay small and, because of their scale, maintain that attention to quality. Louboutin is a wonderful example of a very small company run by the designer who has managed to stay small, make amazing products, refrain from even advertising, and not sell out. I liked almost everything he has to say:

“Luxury is the possibility to stay close to your customers, and do things that you know they will love. It’s about subtlety and details. It’s about service [...] Luxury is not consumerism. It is educating the eyes to see that special quality.” -Louboutin

This could be a mantra for my own business, in a way. But I think there are other, even smaller artist-run companies like Louboutin, carrying the flag for quality and originality, not merely reaching for money and growth. I can think of some in my own community, in fact.

What do you think? Is luxury a farce? A marketing gimmick? Do you think it’s different than it was 60 years ago? Does it mean something to you?

{image above: sweet dolly pins}

Ok guys, I feel that my links have become embarrassingly outdated. A long while back, I just threw up some of my favorite links and haven’t had a chance to revise them or seek out new ones.

I think it’s important that we get to know our community of fellow sewers, so I’m putting a call out! I’d love it if you could comment and tell me a little about your sewing or crating related blog. Please write in your comments:

1. Your name (first name is fine, or if you prefer some other nickname or handle, that’s a-ok)
2. The name of your blog
3. The link to your blog
4. A short (140 characters or less) description of your blog

Your blog should have something to do with sewing or making, even if that’s not the primary focus. Please no links to non-blogs (etsy stores, etc).

I’m going to go through all the links you give me and add them to my blogroll, and I’m also planning to add a rotating “featured reader blog” spot that will have a link and the description of your blog.

To keep this manageable, I will keep this open for one week, so you have until Wednesday, March 10, then I will close comments. Thank you all, I can’t wait to check out your links!

{image above: courtesy of bhermans}

I was so fascinated by all the responses to the questions about learning to sew that came in last week! Natalie B asked me if I might summarize some of the discussion, so I’m going to take a stab at condensing some of your experiences into some helpful tips for the aspiring seamstress (or… seamster? Is there a gender neutral term for this?)

1. Beginnings can be frustrating! Some of the beginners mentioned that they really feel at a loss, and that their ideas and dreams really outpace their abilities. I think we all know how frustrating this is when you’re starting out. Katie made a wonderful observation related to this:
   

   “Also, with knitting you are forced to go slow at first… I found that when I started sewing on a machine I wanted to drive it like a car at 100 miles per hour . Not pacing yourself can lead to a lot of mistakes and frustration.”

   That is so true, isn’t it? We all want to get from point A to point B as fast as possible, especially when point A seems a bit of a dull wasteland of wrap skirts and potholders. But I worry that moving too quickly is what burns a lot of aspiring sewers out before their time. I think a good way for a beginner to approach this might be to look for simple projects that you can make with your own twist, like gorgeous trims or a fun printed fabric.

2. You need a solid foundation. Many of you agreed that the foundations of great sewing are careful planning, the right fabric, and taking the time to get a good fit. Unfortunately, these are the most tempting areas for a beginner to cut corners. I think the lesson here is again, to slow down and let yourself enjoy the most creative part of sewing: the planning!
3. A sewing community is a huge help. So many of you said that you learned to sew from mothers, grandmothers, and aunts. Others said they found that the most helpful thing was having an expert around to help when they got stuck. Still others pointed to blogs and sewing forums as the biggest help. But what they have in common is sharing knowledge with each other and finding help when you need it. Kate said:
   

   “I spend a lot of time reading blogs and reviewing online tutorials and books. Ideally, I would love to be a part of a sewing club or sewing circle in my city with women of all experience levels, so we can teach and mentor each other.”

   I agree, that would be an ideal way to learn and improve, no matter what level you’re at!

4. Sewing is about continuous learning. I think one of the reasons many of us are drawn to sewing is the fact that you can do so much with it. The possibilities are vast. The other side of that is the fact that there is a lot to learn. In many cases, it’s hard to even determine what you don’t know so that you can learn. I loved this comment from Nicole because I really feel that this is a common experience, even for those that have been sewing a while:
   

   “I still don’t really know how to sew “properly,” but I pick up techniques from reading people’s blogs, surfing the internet, trial and error, etc. Somebody talks about underlining something, and then I spend an hour surfing around to find out about underlining and think about all the places I should have used it in the past.”

   I think the key is to set your expectations accordingly. You’ll never be “perfect,” and you’ll always be learning, so embrace it and dive in with your curiosity.

Do you guys have anything to add? Any more lessons learned for the new sewer?